Cue Ball
by flooj9235
Summary: Christine pulls Veronica aside to surprise her with her new haircut. Set before the events of New Vegas. Veronica/Christine. Femslash. Oneshot.


"Hey, Vee, you busy?"

Veronica looked up from the computer screen, a smile already on her face at the sound of Christine's voice. She grinned at the small suit of power armor that held her girlfriend. "I think I can spare a minute or two, so long as Elijah doesn't catch me."

Christine huffed from under the helmet, grabbing Veronica's arm and pulling her willing charge out of the archives.

They wound up in Veronica's room, where the scribe sealed the door behind them and turned to face Christine expectantly. "So what's up?" When Christine didn't answer, Veronica hesitated, forcing a smile to remain on her face. "You can take that tin can off now. Why are you even wearing it down here, anyway? There wasn't a training exercise today, I checked the roster."

Christine shifted. "Got a surprise for you."

"Ooo! A surprise? Is it a good 'I'm going to keep you up all night' surprise or a bad 'I'm breaking up with you' one?" Veronica's tone was teasing but a flicker of uncertainty was in her eyes.

Christine shook her head instantly, moving to appease Veronica before remembering she was still armored. "Good. I hope. Depends on you, I guess."

"Well then what is it?"

The crackle of static from Christine's helmet was all the response the scribe got.

"All this secrecy makes me nervous," Veronica prodded, "so you may as well just tell me what's going on before I have to punch it out of you."

Christine scoffed at the notion of Veronica punching through her power armor. "Sweetheart, you're tough, but there's some things even you can't do."

Veronica crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. "You doubt me!" The scribe pretended to be hurt, unable to keep a straight face for very long. "And you're changing the subject. Come on, tell me."

"Promise you won't freak out," Christine pleaded, her fingers going to the clasps on her helmet.

"You're stalling."

Christine pulled the helmet off, tucking it under her arm and giving the scribe what was as close to a vulnerable look as she'd ever worn. Her head, previously covered in a curly blonde mop, was now bare and smooth.

Veronica gaped for a moment, long enough that Christine shifted uncomfortably before her. "Hey, so, I think your helmet's a little too tight," the scribe joked. "It's rubbed off all your hair."

The short woman scowled. "Har har. I shaved it earlier. Do you have any idea how hot it gets topside? 'Sides, Hardin was on my case for not following regs." She rolled her eyes and rubbed a self-conscious hand over her scalp. "Tryin' to do that gecko's nest up in a bun was a pain in the ass anyway. This is easier."

"I liked the curls." Veronica cocked her head and studied her girlfriend for a few moments, smiling a little. "But this works too. Makes you look dangerous."

That got Christine grinning and she relaxed, only hesitating when she saw the scribe's eyes light up with an idea. "Oh no. What are you up to?"

Veronica couldn't stop an ornery grin. "Just think. People can start calling you 'Cue Ball' Royce."

Christine wrinkled her nose. "First person that does that gets a live plasma grenade in their bunk."

"No, no, wait! We'll be like the superheroes of the wasteland!" Veronica was beaming and flung a conspiratorial arm around Christine's neck. "Cue Ball Royce and Saint Vee, Righters of Wrong and Protectors of the Wastes! Can you imagine? People would tremble at the mere mention of our names! Khans would run in fear!"

Christine chuckled, ducking away from Veronica's grasp. "Saint Vee, huh? Funny, you didn't seem so innocent last night," she added mischievously, fingers nipping at Veronica's side.

The scribe's cheeks reddened to match her robes. "Oh c'mon. What else am I supposed to do with Santangelo?"

"You could change it, I guess," Christine offered, setting her helmet on Veronica's desk and rubbing at a scuff on it with her thumb.

"To what? Watkins?" The scribe pulled a face. "If I shared a name with that little brat..."

Christine pulled off her breastplate with a quiet smile, shedding the rest of her armor in just a few seconds. She stacked it on the desk and stretched before glancing up at Veronica. "I dunno. Royce has a nice ring to it."

Veronica was stunned into silence, and when she did try to speak, all she could do was stammer out half-formed syllables.

Christine laughed at the flustered scribe, stretching up on her toes to kiss Veronica gently. "Kidding, Vee. Calm down."

"That was mean," Veronica accused, her cheeks pink. "Besides, we-it's not even allowed."

"Like that's stopped us before." Christine smiled sweetly and stepped around Veronica to collapse into her bed. She stretched out and curled an arm behind her head, giving Veronica a lazy look. "You shoulda begged off today. We could have spent the day together."

Veronica pouted down at her. "Elijah wouldn't have gone for it. He's got a whole bunch of stuff he wants me studying before he and I go out tech-hunting next week. Speaking of..." The scribe glanced at the clock on the wall and sighed. "I should go back to the archives. Ibsen will notice I'm gone."

Christine reached for Veronica's hand, giving her a gentle tug. The scribe complied willingly, sitting on the edge of the bed beside her girlfriend. "How much longer you gonna be?"

Veronica shrugged. "I'll probably be done by dinner. Where are you going to be?"

"Right here," Christine replied with a smug little smile. "Don't give me that look. Your bed is comfy, and it smells like you. This way I get a nap and get to see you first thing when I wake up. Win win situation."

Veronica rolled her eyes. "You're such a sap." She leaned over and kissed the bald woman sweetly, rubbing the top of Christine's head as she got to her feet. Seeing the confused look on her girlfriend's face, Veronica grinned. "Just for luck."

Christine groaned and buried her face in the pillow as Veronica giggled and headed back to the archives.


End file.
